


fortress around your heart

by ndnickerson



Category: Nancy Drew - Carolyn Keene
Genre: Angst, Break Up, Chance Meetings, Established Relationship, F/M, Moving On
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-02
Updated: 2015-07-02
Packaged: 2018-04-07 07:56:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4255482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ndnickerson/pseuds/ndnickerson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for celvanas's birthday! Ned makes a choice that he thinks will bring him happiness, but it could cost him almost everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	fortress around your heart

Ned checked his watch and considered, for the hundredth time, calling their date off. 

Three months ago, this would have been unfathomable. Three months ago, as far as Ned had been able to tell, he and Nancy had never been more in love. Slowly they had grown closer, and when they had been sharing his bed one night, she hadn't asked him to stop. He had waited for her protest, expected it, and then she had been wrapped around him, gasping his name, and they had been lovers.

Ned had always loved her, always. He thought she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen; he thought she was smart and brave and incredible. He had also always been convinced that she would eventually find someone else. Being her boyfriend had been both thrilling and miserable. He loved her so much, and losing her—just the thought of it made his chest go tight and his throat ache. He knew that other men wanted her, made passes at her, turned her head, but he wished that he could find a way to keep her his. He was just as certain that he couldn't and wouldn't cage her, that he could never trap her and she would resent him for trying. If she didn't want to be with him, it would just hurt them both to try to get her to stay. He had always known that.

In the last few months, for just a brief, glimmering second, he had begun to believe that it didn't have to be that way. He had begun to think that he had a chance at being with her forever. That maybe, finally, the way she felt about him was similar to the way he felt about her. He adored her and loved her with all his heart, and when she was in his arms, when they made love, he felt like he could explode with it.

He craved her, now. And when she had gone on a case a month ago—ever since then, she had been distant. She had avoided his calls; she had sent him a few emails, a couple of text messages, and that was all. When Ned caught himself staring at his cell phone at three o'clock in the morning, wishing that he could will her to talk to him—he knew something had to change.

He recognized the signs. It didn't take a rocket scientist; an idiot would have known. A month ago, she had met someone. Her messages had changed; he hadn't seen her. In a last-ditch effort, he had begged her to see him in Chicago last weekend. She had claimed an emergency, and she had blown off their date. That had been all the confirmation he needed. If she needed him the way he needed her...

It made him sick at heart, miserable and depressed, to imagine that she had fallen for someone else. It made him crazy. He wanted to find the man who had seduced her and turned her heart, and kill him with his bare hands. He wanted to scream at her, to beg her and plead with her, to just give him another chance. He was desperate for her. He loved her so much, and being without her, missing her so much, made him hurt like hell.

But it was better to get it over with now. He wanted that. He needed closure, and this would give him that. Maybe she would tell him what had happened, but his imagination had already done that a thousand times over. A part of him didn't want to know. A part of him desperately wanted to know, but it would just be sheer meaningless torture. He had thought that she enjoyed sleeping with him, but maybe he just hadn't measured up in bed. Maybe the few hints he had dropped about their possibly moving in together had frightened her. Maybe they had just met too young, and their relationship had burned out already.

But he couldn't let himself think that way either. He loved her, so he would set her free. He would find out who he was without her, and maybe, if fate brought them together again, he wouldn't love her in a way that was too damn close to miserable obsession.

Being in her presence felt like sunshine. The past month had felt like hell. He _never_ wanted to go through anything like this again, and as much as the thought hurt—she was no good for him right now. He wanted her too much to think clearly, or to keep himself from doing something stupid.

When he had realized what was going on, during one terrible sleepless night, he had gone online and run a few searches. One of his Omega Chi brothers had taken a job in China, after studying abroad there twice; he had told Ned that all he had to do was say the word. That had come back to him during his third drink.

China. Nancy might be a globetrotter, but he would be very unlikely to run into her there. Unlikely, not impossible, but nothing was available in Antarctica—and even there he wasn't fully convinced he wouldn't be safe from a chance meeting.

He loved his family and his friends and the comfort and familiarity of being in Chicago. If he took Martin up on the offer, he'd be so far away from everyone else he knew. But it was an incredible opportunity.

If she had come to their date a week ago, he would have talked it over with her. If she had encouraged him, his heart would have broken, but he would have known. If she had tried to convince him to stay, then he would have known that there might be a chance for them.

But that was all it was, he realized now. Just a chance. Just a reprieve from the next time, and the next.

He had made up his mind, but that didn't mean he _wanted_ this. He wasn't sure that his heart had recovered enough to see her without breaking all over again. He would make it short, and then he would probably call a few of his friends and go out and get _very, very_ drunk.

He loved her, and if he was going to get through his time in China and the rest of his life, he couldn't do it with what was between them still up in the air. He had to just destroy any hint that they could possibly get through this or past this. No matter what... even if she loved him, it wasn't enough. It just wasn't.

He dressed in his newest suit, a dark-charcoal one, with a perfectly coordinated tie. He looked good, and in some small tender place in his heart he hoped that she would regret losing him. He hoped that she would hate herself for letting him go. That her heart would hurt just like his had over the past month.

Ned didn't want to get to the bar early, but he found himself there three minutes before the appointed time anyway, and was beyond shocked to see that she was already there. He had halfway expected her to text or call him with another excuse and cancel their date, and then he would have told himself that he tried and just let it go.

And the sight of her took his breath away, and made his heart skip a beat. Her reddish-gold hair was shining and pulled back from her face, and she wore a dove gray and black dress decorated with sequins. Her long legs were shown to gorgeous perfection in strappy heels.

She was the most beautiful woman he had ever known, and ever _would_ know. If he hadn't known her, then maybe he would have gone through life without such a terribly broken heart. As much as he wished it hadn't come to this... his life wouldn't have been nearly as rich or as exciting without her.

He hoped that one day he could look back on it and all the bitterness would have passed away, but tonight his throat ached and he had to steel himself. It would be a mistake to fall down on his knees at her feet and humiliate himself in the hopes of winning her back. He owed it to both of them to make this a clean break.

His tickets were already purchased, his bags mostly packed. Every second his future became something more real, and something that just as certainly wouldn't include her. He wouldn't be waiting, holding his breath, expecting the other shoe to drop anymore. He knew he should feel relieved, but he didn't, not at all.

She smiled at him as soon as their eyes met, and her smile became a grin. "Hey Ned," she murmured, and when she wrapped her arms around him, pressing her body against his as she gave him a hug, he very nearly lost his nerve again. To give her up, when what they had had together was more incredible than anything else he had ever known—

But, he reminded himself, it had already happened; she was already gone. And the cost of it had just been too fucking high.

"Nancy."

Her smile flickered, a little, as she took the other seat at the small table. "I know you said we should meet for a drink, but—maybe we could have dinner? My treat. I know I need to say I'm sorry for how—how out of place I've been."

Ned shook his head. "I actually have something else going on after this," he told her.

Her blue eyes widened slightly. "Oh. Um... Ned..."

"And I... well, I just... I don't want to go through this again. I love you. I love you with all my heart and I always will. But you're—" His throat ached. "You're just no good for me right now. I've—I've taken a job in China. I'm not sure how long it will be, and I—I think it'll be good, to be apart. I just don't want to know, okay? I don't know what kept you away for the past month, just that—if you'd wanted to be with me, you would have. I thought it would be better to tell you in person." He ran his hand through his hair. "So I guess this is goodbye."

Nancy shook her head. Her blue eyes were shining with tears. "Ned, please..."

He almost broke, then. He had never been able to bear the sight of her crying. "Please don't," he whispered, standing up. "Please, just don't. It'll be better for both of us..."

She shook her head again, and fumbled with her purse. "Please take this," she told him, extending her hand, presenting him with a small package. "Please. And..."

He didn't want to take it. He had infinite reminders of her, and some small, meaningless souvenir she had picked up on a case while flirting with another guy would just make him feel even worse. He took it reluctantly.

"And call me," she said, her gaze pleading. "I—I love you too, Ned. I love you so much."

He put the package into his pocket and gave her a little nod. As bad as he had imagined this being, it had somehow become so much harder. Thanks to some masochistic impulse, it almost would have been easier if she had shrugged off his speech and responded coldly. This... he felt just as devastated and heartsick as he had a month ago.

He wasn't important to her, and she was always the same when she apologized to him for being with another man. It never lasted, he reminded himself as he climbed into a cab, leaving her behind in the restaurant, leaving her behind forever. He knew she meant it whole-heartedly. He also knew that her heart wasn't fully his.

He wished there was a way that they could be friends, but he knew that it was better to just have a clean break between them. Every time he talked to her, he would be reminded, and there would be no moving on.

He needed to move on, and she would, too. She likely already had. That should have been some comfort, but it wasn't.

He was leaving behind everything and everyone he loved, and he didn't know for how long. If he knew she was waiting for him, well—then maybe he wouldn't have taken Martin up on the offer, and he would have missed an incredible opportunity. Maybe as dark as this cloud was, it had a silver lining. Maybe.

But Martin had talked about six months, nine months, a year—to start. He hadn't even been able to imagine spending two full months away from her without some tearful confession of infidelity and an insincere promise that it would never happen again. At least this way she wouldn't feel guilty when it happened again; at least he would never again have to sit through that utterly humiliating speech.

Such a shitty consolation prize, he thought. Such a fucking shitty consolation prize. He hoped that he stopped loving her this way. He hoped that eventually he was able to think of her fondly, as an old friend, not as the woman who had thoroughly broken his heart.

A year might be long enough, he thought. A year to do all he could to forget her.

Back at the restaurant, Nancy told the concerned waiter that she was fine, although she felt anything but. She had been so looking forward to seeing Ned tonight. Now her heart was broken.

He thought they would be better off apart. He had decided to take a job in China. In _China._ And she didn't know if he would ever want to see her again.

She supposed it was partially her own fault, but she was still so deeply hurt. He had said she was no good for him... and after the month she had been through, to hear that on top of it, it was just too much.

She walked out of the restaurant in a daze. He had practically made a dash for the door, and she was unsurprised to find that he wasn't on the street out front, but that didn't mean she didn't desperately want to see him. When the thought struck her, she fumbled her phone out of her purse, tapping his name in her list of contacts.

He didn't pick up. That hurt, too.

"Ned... I... I love you." She choked up, passing a trembling hand over her stinging eyes. "Please, call me. The package... please. Open it and you'll understand. I love you."

He had to. She didn't know what she would do if he actually left, if tonight was the last time she ever saw him. She had been so happy to see him tonight, to finally talk to him...

Her phone didn't ring or chime in reply, and slowly, admitting defeat, she put it away and took a deep breath. She knew she would sleep with her phone in her hand, ready and waiting for his call.

He was _her_ Ned. Hers. Maybe they occasionally fought, but that was what people did when they loved each other, because they cared so much. She had always known that Ned cared about her. She was more certain than ever that she loved him.

_What if..._

The thought was too terrible to contemplate, so she didn't. He would change his mind. She knew he would. He loved her with his whole heart, and he always had.

She was just beginning to realize what that meant, but if he truly had changed...

_No._ She shook her head. No. It couldn't end this way. It just couldn't.

\--

"Ned. Congratulations."

Ned looked up from his computer, still focused on the problem in front of him, and gave Henry a smile. "Yeah. Hmm?"

Henry nodded at Ned's computer, a bottle of soda in his hand. "A trip back home at the holidays. You must have done something right."

A lot of somethings, if Ned had any insight at all. He was in the middle of his third training program, and every successful completion had meant another raise in pay. He was efficient at his job, and he enjoyed his work. Adjusting to life in Beijing had taken some time, but he enjoyed it.

A trip back home, though... As soon as Henry had nodded at Ned and returned to his desk, Ned checked his email and found it: an invitation that was really a request, for him to attend a lavish gala in New York to represent the firm. Black tie required. A few other representatives would be there, and he would be expected to network a little. Jason Entloe would be there, and Marjorie Klein. Alecia Normand from the New York office would be in attendance, too.

Ned relaxed, marginally. He had thought Henry meant _home_ , not just his home country. New York wasn't Illinois.

He missed his parents and his family, but returning to Illinois was too risky just yet.

He had thought his broken heart would be healed by now, but it wasn't. Sometimes it felt like he had just shut his feelings behind a flimsy curtain, and practically anything was enough to drag or rip the curtain away and expose his still-raw feelings again. A scent of something like her perfume, sweet against the acrid polluted air, rising in a soft cloud from the warm skin of another subway passenger. The name of a movie she had loved popping up when he was scrolling through the television listings. The sound of a laugh as he passed a cafe that reminded him so much of her own. It wasn't impossible that she would come to Beijing; it was impossible that he would _not_ see her, if she did.

But she was back home, and he supposed he should be grateful that she hadn't found him. He knew it was well within her abilities to do so, and his whereabouts weren't really any secret. His parents had stopped bringing Nancy's name up in conversation, sensing that it made him upset—but they had also made it clear that they would love for him to invite her to their home for a holiday meal, to see her again. Especially early on, they had decided that this was just a temporary separation, a minor rift. They had fought before; his reaction had just been a little more extreme this time.

He had thought that making a new life would mean moving on, but he hadn't understood how homesick he would feel, or how inextricable she seemed, from what home had been. He had broken things off with her and moved to Beijing so quickly that when he thought of _home-home,_ Illinois and Mapleton, _she_ was still a part of that mental image and all it meant. He didn't even know what the holidays would feel like without her, if he had been back home. He probably would have been more depressed.

And though his career was great, despite the esteem of his co-workers and all the pride he felt for his success in that arena of his life, although everything was incredible—in those moments when he was alone in his small apartment and left with his thoughts, he missed her and he waited, he prayed, for his loneliness to end. He had been on a few dates, but there just hadn't been any spark there, not for him.

A few times, when his spirits had been at a low ebb and his self-control near the point of breaking, he had pulled out that small package she had given him on the last night he had seen her, but he had put it away again every time without opening it. He wanted to throw it away, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. If he opened that small package, the last interaction of their relationship would be done. There would be nothing left, and it truly would represent closing the door on them.

He needed to do that. He _had_ done that. Opening a small package wouldn't change that.

But it felt like superstition, somehow. That package was the last bit of them. He knew he could throw it away anytime, he just didn't want to. It just... it felt like it was too much for now. It could be his new year's resolution, and leaving that last bit of their relationship behind and making a fresh start with the new year definitely sounded good.

New York. It still felt a little too close, but he could manage it, especially if his boss would appreciate it.

When he was packing for his trip, he put the small package in his suitcase, hoping that a trip back to the States would inspire him to leave that last bit of baggage behind, or to deal with it for good. He also picked out a few small gifts for his parents. He was only planning on being in New York for three days, and that didn't give him enough time to go to Mapleton, which was both a relief and a disappointment. Instead, he had suggested that his parents could meet him in the city, so they could have a little reunion and holiday observance together. Though Ned missed Mapleton more than he could ever say, what he missed most was his parents, and his heart was still too fragile to bear even the idea of seeing Nancy.

New York. He couldn't let himself get too excited, and he was glad the trip would be brief. He had the responsibilities of a new position to learn. Beijing was the opportunity of a lifetime, and he had been right to choose it over their relationship.

Ned shook his head, a folded shirt in his hands, as he corrected himself. No, he hadn't chosen Beijing over Nancy. _She_ had forced the choice when she had ignored him and neglected their relationship for so long.

Ned sighed. The bitterness hadn't yet passed through to the sweet, not for him. The happiness he had now wasn't more or better, and though he no longer felt the lowest depths of his depression, he also didn't feel the same jubilance he had felt with Nancy. He counted it a victory to just feel even for a day.

It was no small price to pay, but at least he wasn't composing messages to her five times an hour. At least, every now and then, he dreamed about someone or something other than her. It would get easier.

He only wished it could be easier _now._

New York at Christmastime was beautiful. The wind was bitter cold but the snow hadn't yet come to blanket the city in blue-white. Ned tucked the loose end of his scarf beneath the collar of his coat, huddling against the wind as he headed out of LaGuardia and hailed a cab. Everywhere he spotted signs of the season: gold-trimmed red velvet bows, pine wreaths and holly boughs, twinkling stars and fairy lights, menorahs and Santas. Shop windows were decorated for the season, with toy trains and rocking horses and lifelike dolls. A few kids, bundled up in thick-quilted winter coats, pressed their faces against the windows in speechless longing.

He wished it had been possible for him to go to Mapleton; seeing the kids reminded him of home in a way that left his chest aching slightly. The celebration at his parents' house, at his grandparents' houses, had always been warm and loud and welcoming, and _home_. Without this invitation to come back to the States... he would have been celebrating in Beijing, he realized, and shook his head. He really was lucky. Over the past year he had doubted that some—he had lost the woman who had been the love of his life for so long—but his luck finally seemed to be turning for the better.

His hotel suite was unbelievable. All the furniture was gleaming black onyx and aged brass against creamy-white upholstery and linens. An abstract floral print in orange-red and pale green provided the only color in the room. It looked very sophisticated and sexy, and Ned chuckled when he caught himself automatically mentally designating the king-sized bedroom to his parents, and the two-queen bedroom to himself. Even the bathrooms were lavishly appointed. For a minute he toyed with the idea of picking up a small tabletop tree, just to make the room a bit more festive, but he shrugged.

His parents' flight was that night, and once the luggage was safely stored in the room and they had changed, the three of them went to a local trattoria for dinner. Absence really did make the heart grow fonder. He listened to his parents' comments and laughter with rapt attention, seeing the way the light danced in their eyes again like it was the first time. Ned's mother was well-dressed in black wool and pearls, and his father wore a burgundy and gold sweater.

"So it's a good sign that you're here, I would think," Ned's mother said, her eyes bright. "Are you thinking about transferring back?"

"I would have said that New York is too far, but I'm beginning to reconsider that," Ned's father agreed. "And you look well."

Ned half-chuckled, looking between his parents. "I think it is a good sign, but I'll be heading back in a few days," he said. "As to transferring back, I still don't expect that to happen anytime soon. I miss you guys too, but this really has been an incredible opportunity."

Ned's mother took a bite of her buttered slice of artisan loaf, then put it down and patted at her mouth with her napkin. "I was disappointed that you wouldn't be able to come home, but I suppose that's just because you wouldn't have been able to stay long. Not because of anyone else you might have been dreading seeing."

Ned's father placed his hand over hers. "Edith..."

Ned coughed. "Mom..."

She shook her head. "Let's just go ahead and talk about this," she said, gazing directly into his face, her expression almost fierce. "You broke up with Nancy and moved halfway around the world, and it just felt like it was out of nowhere. You two loved each other so much, and that doesn't just end, like that."

"Apparently it does for her," Ned said, his tone more harsh than he intended or even realized. His jaw tightened and he glanced down. "I needed a change, and this has been good for me. I hate being so far away from home too, but..."

"But you haven't even spoken to her, since. You've had a cooling-off period. Was what happened really that unforgivable?"

Ned shrugged. He could feel an uncomfortable tickling in his throat.

"Let it go," Ned's father murmured. "He clearly doesn't want to talk about it."

"It just didn't feel like you. It just _doesn't._ " Ned's mother sighed too. "And I thought that maybe it was just that I didn't want you to leave the nest so soon... you'll always be my baby, Ned. Always. I just hope you have a wonderful time in China, but once you've achieved what you're there to do, that you come home."

"Mom..." Ned shook his head. "I'm not going to go there and never come back again. I'm always a phone call or an email away. You know that. But this has been good for me."

His mother's brow was furrowed, her expression clearly skeptical, but she didn't contradict him.

"And we're just happy you thought of us and invited us to such a lovely hotel."

Ned smiled at his father, but he was struck by the oddness of it. Usually his parents were both very even-tempered, and if anyone could be described as the peacemaker, that person would have been his mother. Ned's father had handled punishment and rules when Ned had been a child. Ned's mother had always spoken for leniency and reconciliation.

For the rest of the meal, they mostly avoided the topics that had made them tense, although Ned found himself talking about his job even when he didn't intend to. He could tell that his parents were a little tired, though, and he decided that a night bus tour of the holiday sights could wait until the next night, after the gala reception he was attending. He was only going to be putting in an appearance and mingling with some people, anyway; he could nurse a drink or two and call it an early night, and get away to see his parents. Henry would doubtless ask how many phone numbers he collected and how many women he shamelessly flirted with; Ned didn't care. Girls would come and go, but his parents wouldn't be around forever, and he didn't want to waste this time with them.

The following day, he and his parents had a leisurely brunch and took in the view from the Empire State Building, and after some sightseeing Ned went back to the hotel to change for the gala. While he tied his tie and checked his cufflinks, he went through the names he needed to remember and the names of people who might be there, and what he had learned about the project he was working on. He smiled crookedly when he realized that it felt almost like he was cramming for a test, and almost as tense. He wanted to do the best job he could for his supervisors.

The gala was being held at a downtown hotel, a huge sprawling convention-oriented one, with ornate modern chandeliers and glossy black and copper everywhere, thick plush rugs and bubbling fountains. The reception area was beautiful marble and gold.

The actual gala, which was being held in a double ballroom, was just as impressive. A buffet stretched along the entire rear wall, and a uniformed, smiling bartender was waiting to take his drink order—and the bottles in front of her weren't the cheap ones, either. He was glad that he had taken the time to pack his cufflinks and his best suit. The other attendees were dressed in lace, velvet, shimmering metallics and cashmere. 

He was a little dazzled, he had to admit. He had only worked for the company for a short time, and he had been assigned _this_. In a year, where would he be?

The thought was unwelcome, but he couldn't deny it. He finally felt like he was starting to imagine a life for himself, a life that was interesting and fulfilling and complete. He would have adventures of his own. He would make memories that didn't involve her. He wasn't quite there yet, but he would be soon.

_Maybe then he would finally be the kind of guy she would stay with._

Ned shook himself. Any progress he made, if he made it only to spite her—it wouldn't be progress at all. He needed to find out who he was without the burden of missing her.

Within ten minutes he was at the center of a group of people, beautiful articulate women and confident men, and he was happy. He was a part of them. He fit in. Instead of dreading the gala, he was actually having a good time, and he and his parents could take the New York tour the next night. He was sure they were tired from the day's sightseeing. Maybe he wouldn't nurse just one drink after all.

He had finished his first drink and a glass of water when he excused himself, promising he would hurry back to hear the end of Marjorie's story. The bathroom closest to the ballroom had a line waiting outside, and Ned, impatient to return, only waited there for a few seconds before he went in search of another bathroom. He found one closer to the front of the hotel; a line was waiting for the women's room, but not the men's.

His mind was already back on Marjorie and Jason and the party when he walked out of the bathroom a minute later, a polite smile on his face as his gaze passed, unseeing, over the woman sitting on the couch facing the restroom area. She had to be resting while she waited, he thought. She—

Ned stopped in his tracks in the split second before he realized.

Nancy. Nancy was sitting there, glancing up from checking her watch. Her reddish-gold hair was darker than it had been over the summer, and longer, and—

and she was heavily pregnant. Her belly was rounded under her royal-blue dress.

Her gaze was on his face when he looked at her eyes, and his lips were just parting. She—she was here somehow and she was _pregnant_ and it was her, she had just put on some weight from the pregnancy, that was why it had taken him a second to recognize her—

Nancy was _pregnant._

A flush was rising in her cheeks, and Ned took a half-step toward her. It felt like all the blood had drained out of his face, leaving his skin cold. It couldn't be her. He was in New York. She wouldn't be. The pure, trembling joy he felt at the sight of her was disturbing, and it was just someone who looked like her, had to be.

Then Bess came over and helped Nancy up; when she was on her feet, her condition was even more painfully obvious. He couldn't deny it any longer.

He took another step toward her. Bess stopped mid-sentence, responding to the look on Nancy's face, the way her eyes were gleaming, and glanced over to see Ned.

"Nan. I can't believe it's you... I..."

She studied his face for a moment, once he went speechless. "You didn't read it," she said, her voice quiet, her tone—disgusted, he realized. She shook her head. "Do me a favor, okay? Just—just go to hell."

Then George walked up and the three of them walked away, with Nancy leaning on her two best friends for support, and Ned was left staring after them, wondering if he had just seen what he thought he had seen.

She was heavily pregnant.

_She was near the end of her pregnancy._ Not quite at the end, but—

The baby was his.

He shook his head slightly, still feeling stunned. The baby likely was his, but might not be. He didn't know. Maybe she had been distant because she had begun an affair...

He thought of what he hadn't let himself think about in a long time. She had called and left messages on his phone every day for almost a whole week, and he had deleted them without listening or responding. It was too late, and he didn't need the distraction of her pleading or her excuses.

If the baby was his, and she had been calling to tell him...

Ned stumbled a little, flushing scarlet. Oh, oh God, he was an asshole, he was such an asshole, if that was why she had been calling. She was clearly angry at him.

_You didn't read it._

All thoughts of the party were entirely wiped out of his head as he finally found the will to move. He rushed in the direction they had walked, but he didn't see them, and at least four other events were going on at the hotel. They could be staying there as guests; they could be in the restaurant, or meeting with a possible contact on a case. And she hadn't looked at all pleased or happy to see him.

_You didn't read it._

The package. The small package she had given him the last time he had seen her.

He immediately walked out onto the street. The air was blisteringly cold, and he could feel ice in the wind as he frantically hailed a cab. He needed to get back to the hotel. He needed that package.

He knew what would happen, but as soon as he was in the backseat of the cab, he reached for his phone and dialed her number. She didn't answer, but it did ring. So his number wasn't blocked, and she hadn't changed hers. That was a good sign. A faint, possibly worthless one, but a good sign.

She was _pregnant._

The past six months had been wiped away like they hadn't happened, and in an instant all the progress he had made, all the tiny steps he had made away from her, all of it was gone. She had begged him to open that package and read the note. It had to be a good message. Had to be.

The love he felt for her and always had, so swift and terrible and powerful, filled him, and nothing mattered beyond her. Nothing ever had. It felt good to admit it. He hadn't known the heights of this incredible happiness without her. He just wanted to see her again. He had missed her so, so much.

But she was angry at him. It was possible that he was going to crash back down to earth in a few minutes. He didn't know.

He barely heard his mother's warm greeting and question about what had brought him back so soon; he grunted in acknowledgement, heading straight for his suitcase. The package was just where he had left it, tucked into a pocket in the lining. His hands were trembling a little as he began to work it open.

He found two items inside. The first was a large, flat button with a pin on the back so he could wear it. _World's Best Daddy._

The other was a printed photo, and it took him a few seconds to realize what it depicted; he had never seen one before. It was a pregnancy test, showing a plus sign.

It was his baby.

"Oh my God," he whispered, and his knees buckled. He almost didn't make it, and nearly slid off the edge of the bed and fell on the floor.

He was going to be a father. He and Nancy had made a baby together.

"Oh my God," he whispered.

He was dreaming. He had had more to drink than he had thought at the party. This— that he had carried this package around for so long without ever checking its contents, that she had been trying to tell him that she was having his baby—

He felt guilty and ashamed and awestricken, all at once. A baby. His baby, _their_ baby. And if he hadn't known, if he hadn't just happened to see her... that thought left him feeling almost numb with grief.

He heard a tap at the door and his chin came up, but he still wasn't really seeing anything. "Ned?" his mother asked cautiously. "Everything okay?"

He released a quiet meaningless sound, and after a beat she pushed the door open. His mouth opened and closed a few times, and he wordlessly showed her the laminated button. "I—I just saw Nancy," he admitted, and ran his fingers through his hair. "We're—she's pregnant..."

"You didn't know."

Ned did a double take. His mother didn't sound surprised. "You _did_?" he stammered, incredulous, as his father joined his mother in the doorway of Ned's hotel bedroom.

"We'd heard about it, and when you were so upset and when you left so suddenly, we just—well, we weren't sure if that was why, if the baby belonged to someone else. But she didn't settle down with anyone, and you were so upset whenever we talked about her..."

"So she's carrying our grandchild."

His parents didn't sound upset about that; they had apparently come to terms with it, and Ned's mind was completely blown. "I—yeah," he said. "I think—no. She _was_ trying to tell me, and I... I just didn't listen." He released a bitter laugh, shaking his head. "You knew and you didn't tell me..."

"Believe me, if I'd thought you didn't know..." His mother patted his hand; she had sat down next to him, and he hadn't even registered it. "So she's in the city. You spoke to her?"

Ned shrugged and shook his head again. "Not really. She—she's mad at me. I can't blame her. She tried to call me right after I left, and I—" He made a scoffing, disgusted sound. "I knew that if I talked to her..."

"That you'd lose your nerve to go. To chase that great opportunity." Ned's father patted his shoulder. "So what are you going to do?"

His mother opened her mouth, then closed it.

Ned glanced at her, then up at his father. "Do what I should have done six months ago," he replied. "And pray to God it's not too late."

\--

At first, Nancy felt only anger—blinding, pure anger, so intense it was almost intoxicating.

When she had found out she was pregnant—she had been so, so sure that her missed period had been due to stress or miscalculation that she hadn't even taken a test until she was over a month pregnant—she had spent the next three weeks, miserable with morning sickness, considering what she wanted. It wasn't a choice she could make lightly, whether to carry a child to term or not. She did know that once she told Ned, he would immediately be excited. There had been absolutely no question in her mind about whether he would want a baby. Absolutely none. There had been no question in her mind that, as soon as Ned found out she was pregnant, he would want to raise a child with her.

Nancy had been afraid when Ned had started dropping hints about moving in together, about making their relationship more permanent. She knew she wanted to be with him; that wasn't the question. A total commitment, like that... he deserved an honest, thoughtful answer, not one that she gave him just because she felt guilty and pressured. She didn't want to start a cohabitation that way.

She had more than valued her independence and her freedom; she had thrived on it. Until she saw a way to be with him that wouldn't leave her miserable and depressed...

But she had realized that she loved him, she wanted to be with him, and she was incredibly miserable at the thought of ever breaking up with him. It would have been different, if she had ever doubted Ned's love for her, but she hadn't. He would make a loving father, even if she had her doubts about her abilities as a mother.

She had never in a million years dreamed that he would break up with her the very night she had planned on telling him. She had been in shock, disbelieving; she had swallowed her pride and left him messages, urging him to open the package, and then telling him outright, begging him to call her.

Eventually, she decided, one of two things had happened. Ned had heard her messages, and he hadn't cared. He had said that she was no good for him, and apparently he felt the same way about raising a child with her. His career was more important to him. He hadn't reconsidered. He hadn't changed his mind.

Or... it almost hurt worse to imagine that he didn't know, and _that_ was why he hadn't contacted her. She hadn't even touched him or his heart; he had cut her completely out of his life. And she knew that she could track him down, manage to get a message to him somehow, but if all her voicemails and text messages had been ignored, she had no faith that anything else would reach him.

She had tried. If he loved her, if it was meant to be... and oh, she had thought that they had been meant to be. If he didn't see it that way, then she didn't need him. She had been strong for so long, and she would be _damned_ if she would let a minor thing like—like losing the love of her life, to stop her.

She had never imagined herself as a single mother. She hadn't even been sure, during the worst week of it, that she wanted to be a mother. But the more she thought about it, as much as she hated the idea, it was comforting to know that when she gave birth to their baby, she would have a piece of Ned forever. At least their love, withered and cold as it was now, had borne fruit before dying.

But even that wasn't true. As much as she hated him, as deeply as she wished that he would feel just a _tenth_ of the pain and anguish he had put her through, that his betrayal put her through every single day, she still loved him—and she always would. For her, what had been between them was forever. She was heartbroken that he hadn't felt the same way.

And then she had seen him while she had been waiting for Bess and George outside the restroom, and all that she had been able to feel was pain. Ned had left her; she was alone, scared out of her mind, preparing for the birth of a child he had rejected when he had rejected her. Her heart had broken ever single day, over and over again, every morning when she woke and discovered that it hadn't just been a bad dream. She hadn't been able to forget Ned, not for a second, not when she could feel the evidence of their now-broken relationship fluttering in her belly.

He was alive and he looked handsome and happy, and she was miserable.

She didn't even remember what she had said to him, later, just that her voice had been almost trembling and it had been hard to speak. She hadn't even been able to get to her feet without help.

He should have _been there._ He should have been there for her the whole time. Now...

"I know," Bess said sympathetically, patting Nancy's hand. They had immediately taken a cab back to Nancy's aunt's apartment, where Nancy and the cousins were staying. Bess and George had enthusiastically agreed to accompany Nancy to the city until her father could join her, and then they would return to River Heights to be with their own families for Christmas. Nancy had hated to leave the party at the hotel early—her aunt had assured her that if she started feeling bad she should go back immediately, and Nancy had sent her a text message to let her know what was going on when they had been in the cab—but once she had seen Ned, she hadn't wanted to stay there another second.

"He doesn't _care_ ," Nancy wailed, hearing herself and hating it. It had been all she could do not to cry in front of Ned, and now she couldn't stop crying. "I hate him so much."

"He's an asshole," George agreed, patting Nancy's back. "How dare he show up there tonight. The _nerve._ "

She didn't want to think about him, but she couldn't stop. She replayed the sight of him, those few seconds, in her mind every minute or so. He had looked so incredibly handsome. He had looked like that sometimes on their dates, well-dressed and confident, and she missed him with every fiber of her entire being.

And he hadn't known that she was pregnant. She had been able to see that, in the complete shock and surprise on his face. He hadn't been acting.

And if he hadn't known before, if he knew now... well.

_Fuck him. I decided to do this myself months ago. He can just go to hell, as far as I'm concerned, and good riddance._

But she _ached_ , and the grief of losing him was like a raw throbbing wound again, and it was like her heart had started beating again as soon as she had seen him. She wasn't over him. Maybe she would never be, not with his child her responsibility, but she had hoped and prayed that she was on the way to letting him go. Now, she felt no closer than she had the night he had walked out of her life.

China. She had thought he was in China. She knew where he worked there; she had seen the satellite view of it, had seen the satellite view of the apartment house where he lived. It had been surreal to imagine him there, but he had been safely on the other side of the world. She wouldn't just run into him and feel her heart break all over again.

But she had, tonight.

It wasn't fair. Just a few days before Christmas and her equilibrium was entirely thrown off. She was supposed to be enjoying herself at a party. This was just too much.

Their daughter had kicked hard when Nancy had seen Ned, responding to the rush of adrenaline she had felt. That had just made her feel worse.

Nancy went to bed soon after; she was exhausted from seeing him, worn out from crying and ready to sleep. She couldn't, though. After she had brushed her teeth and washed her face, she made sure her phone was plugged in and curled up in the guest bed in her aunt's apartment.

Then her phone pinged.

A part of her had been waiting for it, ever since she had seen the missed call. He would try to contact her again; she had been able to see it in his face.

_I just sent you an email. I know I don't deserve this, but I beg you to read it. I'll call you in the morning. Please get some rest. I love you._

Nancy's eyes filled with stinging tears again, and she sniffled. She didn't want him to feel tied or bound to her by the pregnancy. She wanted him to be with her because he loved her—and she knew now that it wasn't enough. She didn't want him now. It was too late. It was just too late. It was tainted now.

She waited a full two minutes, in agony, before she broke down and pulled up her email on her phone. She had to wait for new messages to load, and she was almost shaking in desperate anticipation.

_Nancy..._

_Baby, I'm so sorry. I'm such an asshole, and you were right to be angry. I wish I'd known; I would never have left and taken that job, if I'd known. Now that I do, I want you to know that I'll stay here. I'm moving back. I'll be here for you and our child, the way I should have been from the start. Oh, Nan, I wish you had told me that night—sooner than that. But I didn't let you talk. I was afraid of what you'd say, and I was a coward for ending things the way I did. I didn't talk to you. I just talked_ at _you and didn't listen to you._

_I told you that you were no good for me... God, I wish I could take all of it back. I didn't hear from you for so long and I realized that all my happiness depended on you and your role in my life, and it was unfair to put that burden on you. But I haven't been happy without you. I'm just treading water, really. I miss you so, so much, every single day, every hour._

_And you're pregnant. I can't believe it, that we're having a baby. That you—that even after everything, you were willing to carry a child alone. I hate that you had to make that choice._

_For a long time, I've known that you and I were meant to be together. I just didn't think you felt the same way, and it broke my heart. I felt like I wasn't good enough for you, or exciting enough for you, that you wanted to be free. And I hate the idea that the only reason you might even consider seeing me again is because you're pregnant and afraid._

_Let me show you, Nan. Let me prove to you that I'm worth another shot; let me remind you of what we had and that it's worth trying again. And even if you decide that what happened was unforgivable and you can't get past it, I beg you to let me be a part of our child's life. Maybe I don't deserve it at all, but I can't bear the thought of not being a good father to our child._

_The pin you gave me just before I left, the one I just saw tonight... I know there was a time when you wanted to share this with me. I'm devastated that I did anything to screw this up. Please, Nan. Please. I love you, and I always have. I always will, no matter what. Nothing in this world is more important to me, than you and our child._

_All my love,_

_Ned_

Nancy read the email twice, the second time with her palm stroking a circle over her belly. She steadily cried the entire time, making her sniffles quiet.

She had made up her mind that she was going to do this herself, and her father had supported her decision. She hadn't been able to bear the thought of going to Ned's parents and telling them; Ned had left her, and his parents were a reminder of him. She was strong and maybe the baby was half Ned's, but she was the one carrying it, and he had left her, and he had given up his right to dictate any part whatsoever of their lives when he had gone to China. Fuck him.

Her mouth crooked up in a sardonic smile. That was how she had gotten into this in the first place.

She closed her eyes and put her phone on the bedside table, wrapping her arm around her belly. Now that Ned knew, he would do his best to wear down her defenses, the very defenses that losing him had created in her. She knew that. She knew that if she saw him, it would be so, so hard to stick to her resolve.

If he wanted to be a father now, if he _really_ wanted to commit to her and their baby, she couldn't deny him that. She just couldn't. It wouldn't be fair to the baby, to force Ned out of their lives out of spite and pain.

But she was still hurting, and she would never know if Ned would have tried to win her back without knowing she was pregnant. If he had just stayed in China, her heart told her, he would have been out of her life for good.

_But he didn't, and he was here tonight. A minute either way and I would never have seen him. We were meant to see each other tonight, because that was the only way I could let him know._

She rubbed her palm over her belly again, another tear sliding down her cheek. The baby had kicked when Nancy had seen Ned. She hadn't been able to share any of it with him; she hadn't been able to guide Ned's palm against her belly and see the wonder on his face when he felt an elbow or foot under her skin. Just the thought of it made her heart constrict with longing.

It had been so hard, so fucking hard, and everyone had been brave for her and supportive of her, but her fear and sadness had felt like a weight she carried around, every second of every day. The thought of being able to share the burden with someone else... oh, it made her hurt even more.

_He can wait._ She wiped her wet cheek with the side of her hand. _He can fucking wait. I remember crying myself to sleep for an entire week praying for a response. He can fucking wait._

\--

Ned had thought he was doing the right thing, and that made _this_ all the worse. It was like he had been driving ninety miles an hour in the wrong direction, confident that he had found the right path. And in another version of his life, he had to believe that it would have been right.

But Nancy was pregnant with his child, and Ned couldn't return to his job knowing that; he would find something else close to home, and after his previous experience, he hoped he would be able to find something that would support them well. He couldn't leave her. He didn't want to be away from her.

And she didn't respond to him. She didn't respond to his voicemail, his text message, the email that he sent her that night, his call the next morning. In the span of twelve hours, most of them sleepless, Ned found himself more than back to where he had started; he was back to the worst of it, the misery he had felt during the month she had practically ignored him and driven him to desperation. It was like having a wound in his foot so, so terrible that it was easier to endure the pain of lopping off his foot than imagining going through it a second longer.

Maybe this was how _she_ had felt, when he had broken up with her, but she hadn't been able to lop the foot off. He had imagined that she had just moved on, that she would be happy with someone else, but even if she was no longer in love with him, she hadn't moved on. Not at all. His parents had said there was no one else in her life, and—

Nancy as a single mother, raising his child alone? Clearly that was what she had been planning, but not always, not at first. She had wanted him to be a father. When he hadn't contacted her, she had decided to move on without him. He hadn't given her any other choice.

He and his parents went on other sightseeing tours, but Ned didn't do anything that would mean being away from his phone and possibly missing a call from her. He took his phone with him everywhere, and as his desperation grew, he found it harder to keep it out of his messages to her. He contacted his boss and explained that due to a family emergency, he would be taking the rest of the holiday off, and asked about possible opportunities in domestic offices.

And Nancy didn't call him or message him or email him. He was subjected to complete radio silence, and it drove him crazy.

Was their baby a boy or a girl? What if she decided that he had screwed up so much that she didn't want him around? Her father could make sure that Ned never saw the baby, Ned was sure of it.

_A baby._

Suddenly, babies were everywhere in New York, in parents' arms, in strollers, in carrying slings. They smiled at him and cooed and gave him little waves. His parents didn't mention it, or the fact that they had clearly canceled their return tickets to stay in the city with him. Ned didn't talk about what was on his mind every single second of every day, because it was too big to speak.

His child, and their grandchild. He could go back to River Heights and camp out on her father's doorstep, if she was still staying there—

That gave him an idea, though.

Forty-eight hours after he had found out that Nancy was carrying his child, Ned made his way into her aunt's apartment building and found her door. He had visited Nancy here before, had coffee at the breakfast bar, even snuck in after Eloise had been asleep one night just to see Nancy. He knew she was staying here, and all he had to do was wait.

Eloise came home first, and Ned flushed a little when he saw her. He hadn't directly interacted with anyone in her family since he had found out. "Good evening," he said, pushing himself up.

"Good evening, Ned. Can I offer you something to drink?" Nancy's aunt had always been warm to Ned, but she was a little more formal with him tonight. Of course she knew the situation; everyone did, and they must think he was a total asshole for abandoning his pregnant girlfriend. 

He wished he could say that he hadn't known, but it was no excuse. He had thought they were practicing safe sex, but apparently they hadn't been—even so, he had known that if anything went wrong, she might end up pregnant.

Eloise put her purse and coat down once she had keyed inside. A large light-strung tree stood in the corner of the main room, near the window, and presents were stacked underneath. Three stockings hung from the mantel, for Nancy, Eloise, and Nancy's father. The air smelled faintly of cinnamon and sugar. "The girls might be out a while longer," Eloise said. "I think N—they knew you might be here. Coffee?"

"Yes, please. I'm really sorry to impose on you like this. I just—I just needed to talk to her."

"A bit late, I'd say," Eloise said, and glanced over at him. Then she shook her head. "It's not my business, I know."

Ned took a deep breath. "If it helps at all, I didn't know until two days ago," he said quietly. "I know it's no excuse."

"No, it's not." Eloise finished preparing his cup of coffee, and didn't say anything else until she brought his and her own and placed them on the coffee table. She gestured for him to take a seat. "And I know Nancy might not like to see you tonight, and if that's what she says when she gets here, you leave. No fuss, no argument. All right?"

Ned swallowed and nodded. "I don't want to upset her."

Eloise sighed. "I don't want to upset her either," she said. "But here we are. I don't think she expected you to be in the city."

He wondered if either of them would have come, if they had known. He explained the job he had taken in China, and was just telling Eloise a little about the city when they both heard steps in the hallway, the jingling of keys. Ned's conversation trailed off; Eloise put her coffee mug down.

Bess was the first one to walk in, and her normally sweet blue eyes were narrowed as soon as she saw Ned. Nancy came in with George's arm linked through hers.

Ned stood, and he only had eyes for Nancy. She wore a burgundy sweater and stretchy black pants, and her hair was half pulled back. Diamond earrings sparkled in her ears. Her stomach was well-rounded and prominent. He ached to hold her.

She was so beautiful, and when she looked at him her eyes gleamed, but her mouth was set. She was still angry.

"Nan," Ned whispered. "Nancy. Please just let me talk to you. I'm so sorry."

George put a protective arm around her. Bess, still wearing her coat, her purse over her shoulder, folded her arms and glared at Ned. Then Bess glanced back. "Nan?"

"He agreed that he'd leave if you didn't want him here," Eloise volunteered, and Ned caught himself a bare second before he turned and glared at her. He didn't want that idea in Nancy's head. "So you can just say the word, honey."

Nancy sighed quietly, reaching up and gently rubbing her brow. "I," she whispered, then shook her head. "I'm very tired. Was I not clear enough when I didn't respond to any of your messages?"

"You were very clear. Six months ago I didn't give you a chance to say anything. Six months ago I—I screwed up, Nan. Today I want to listen. Please."

She took a deep breath. " _Today_ ," she retorted. Her jaw was tight. " _Today_ you want to listen. _Finally._ And I don't have a choice."

Ned shook his head, terribly aware of the people around them both. "You do," he said quietly. "And I deserve for you to ignore me, just the way I ignored you when you tried to tell me. I get that. But I need you to know I'm here waiting, and I will be. If you need anything at all..." He took a step toward her. "I fucked up, sweetheart, and I want to make things—better. I know I can never make this right, but I would do anything at all for you, and our baby. I need you to know that." He took another step. "The last thing I've ever wanted is to hurt you."

She took a trembling breath edged in a quiet sob. "Well you did a really fucking incredible job of it," she said, her voice shaking. She took two steps in the direction of the bedroom, then shook her head. "Ned..."

He swallowed, then reached out and gently touched her hand. "If you can't do this tonight, okay," he said, and her shining blue eyes searched his as she half-sobbed another breath. "Can I meet you for lunch or dinner tomorrow? Anytime, anywhere, you name it. Whenever you want. But we need to talk."

Nancy touched her belly, rubbing her palm against it. Eloise stood. "Honey, are you all right?"

Nancy nodded slowly. "Lunch tomorrow," she said faintly. "She's kicking."

Ned couldn't speak for a few seconds. A daughter. She was going to have a little girl. "Can—can I..."

She took his hand and pressed it against her belly, and Ned almost dropped to his knees. Two days ago, he hadn't known his daughter existed. Then he felt the press of a foot under Nancy's skin.

They had made a life together, inside her. He was speechless, and his eyes were swimming with tears when she looked into his face again.

"I'm going to be a dad," he whispered.

"You already are," she whispered. Then she released his hand and took a step back, away from him. "I'll see you tomorrow."

\--

It was December 23. Bess and George had suggested that they delay their flight, at least wait around until after lunch, but Nancy had told them to get home and had hugged them both goodbye, thanking them for all their help and support. Weather at O'Hare was already getting worse, and Nancy was hoping that her father's own flight wouldn't be delayed, or that any delay would be brief. Aunt Eloise was preparing for their holiday dinner, and Nancy was dreading this lunch more than anything. She hadn't been able to make Ned wait as long as a week to actually speak to her, and she hoped that the mere taste of what she had gone through had been hell for him.

Their daughter had been active all morning, feeding on Nancy's anticipation and adrenaline, and Nancy felt jittery after a mostly sleepless night. She dressed warmly, even while she debated about whether or not to blow him off and make him wait. He was imposing on family time, after all.

But she had taken his hand and pressed it against her belly the night before, to let him feel their daughter kick, and she had seen the wonder and awe on his face that she had so wanted to see. He was being honest with her. He had begged her for this meeting.

It was Christmas, the time for miracles, and this was one of the biggest miracles she could possibly imagine.

She ducked into the upscale diner a block away from her aunt's apartment, shivering under her heavy coat, and saw Ned standing there already. For the first time in six months, she and Ned were alone; all the people around them were strangers, with no idea of their history. Nancy had felt the pressure of Bess and George and her aunt's expectations so strongly, and here, she felt only turmoil. She was almost sick with anticipation.

"Can I take your coat?"

She shook her head. "Not yet. Still cold."

"Here." He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and for a moment she closed her eyes and just felt the warmth of his closeness. His fingertips brushed her cheek, and her heart skipped a beat. "The waitress is cleaning off our table. Just another minute. Are you okay? Still cold?"

"I'll be all right."

"I'm really sorry the table wasn't ready."

"Ned, it's not your fault, really." She took a deep breath and looked into his eyes. "I'll live. I've gotten by okay on my own so far."

He flinched, and though she had meant to hurt him, she still felt a pang of guilt. "I'm sorry you had to," he told her. "You look beautiful. By the way. You've looked beautiful every time I've seen you, in the past few days."

Nancy glanced down at her outfit with a little disagreeing frown. She felt huge and awkward and clumsy, and maternity wear generally seemed to accentuate her large belly instead of minimizing it. It was also pretty dowdy, too. At least the stretchy black and gold patterned sweater might fit her for the rest of her pregnancy. "You're sweet for lying."

"It's not a lie. Not at all. You—you glow."

Before she could respond, the waitress came over to take them to their table, and Nancy busied herself with her menu to give herself some mental space. She had to be careful about what she ate, so even though the tuna salad sandwich sounded unexpectedly appealing, she ordered the fried chicken tenders salad. "And can I get some mandarin oranges on the side? A regular orange is okay if you don't have mandarin. And some cherries?"

Ned had a small smile on his face when the waitress turned to him. "Reuben, please, and fries." The waitress took their menus and left, and he looked at Nancy again. "So you crave fruit?"

For a few seconds, she wanted to snap at him, to rage at him. He had no right to walk back into her life so casually, with so little apology, and talk to her like their relationship hadn't been entirely neglected and ignored for most of a year. "Yeah," she finally said. "Today, anyway."

He reached for her hand. "Talk to me," he said quietly. "I've missed talking to you, the sound of your voice, hearing you laugh. I've missed you more than I ever dreamed. Please."

She looked down at their joined hands. "You say that like I haven't missed you," she said. "All you had to do was pick up the phone and call, Ned. Or answer me when I called."

He gently stroked the back of her hand with his thumb. "I'm sorry. You're right. I promise you that anytime you need me, now, if you call me I'll answer. I'll be there for you and our—our daughter."

"Until?" She looked up into his eyes again. "Until when? You—you didn't even give me a chance to talk to you, when you decided it was over. And that's going to change?"

He nodded. "Why did you stop talking to me for a month?" he asked softly. "What did I do?"

She shook her head and took her hand from his so she could pull her hair back into a ponytail. It was hard to meet his eyes. "I was really busy on a case," she told him. "And then another one. And in the middle of it, I... I found out I was pregnant. I didn't know what to do, and I didn't know how to talk to you about it. I was sick and miserable and upset. We hadn't planned on this, and I... I had to be sure about how I felt before I told you."

"Whether you wanted to have a baby."

She nodded slowly. "I... you had talked about our living together, maybe. Making things more official. It scared me, but I realized that I wanted to be with you, and there was no reason not to commit to you. Not when I knew you'd be an incredible father to our child." She took a shivering breath and snickered. "You couldn't have proven me more wrong if you tried."

He ran his hand through his hair. "Yeah," he murmured, miserably. He didn't try to contradict her or make excuses, but his dark eyes were full of guilt and sorrow. "I will always hate that. I... when I didn't hear from you, I was afraid you had found someone else. I thought that was why you had been avoiding me."

"This was one of the most important decisions of my life. I didn't want to make it lightly. But you made it for me." Nancy propped her chin on her hand. "You thought I was cheating on you, and you didn't give me a chance to talk to you."

"Because I knew that if I talked to you, I'd take you back. I always had. But I was getting—obsessed, I think. I feel it again now. I think about you every second of every day. I want to be near you; I want to make sure you're safe and happy. And the only person I can blame for not being able to do that, is myself."

"Damn right," Nancy retorted immediately. Her throat was aching a little. "You did this, Ned."

"If I could take it back, I would. All of it. Every single bit of the uncertainty and pain I'm sure you've felt. I want all of you that I can possibly have, and that's always been true. But what I want more than anything is to start a life with you, a life we can share with our daughter. You... to me, you're like the air I breathe. I was dying without you."

"But you had me." She sniffled. "I should have talked to you earlier. I just wanted it to be perfect. I could imagine you seeing that picture, the look that would be in your eyes..."

He reached for her hand again. "I've missed so much," he whispered. "Please don't make me miss any more. I know I've hurt you. I know you want to hurt me, and I deserve that. But we're going to be parents... and I know that once upon a time you wanted that, with me. That you wanted our daughter so much that you were willing to go it alone. And I want that too. Please, Nan. Please give me another chance. I'll do anything."

When she looked into his handsome face, she believed him. Her heart believed him. Their daughter was moving again.

And she was so tired. So tired of being strong because she had had no other choice. So tired of keeping a stiff upper lip and assuring everyone that she was more than ready for this, that she would be fine. She was scared and lonely, and he was here.

"Okay," she whispered.

"Really?"

She nodded. "Show me," she told him. "Show me that this isn't just because I'm pregnant, because if it is..." She growled quietly.

He shook his head. "I figured out that part of the reason I went so far away was to prove to you that I could be the kind of man you wanted to be with," he said. "As awful as it was, everything came back to you, and it always has. I wanted you to miss me as much as I missed you. I wanted you to be devastated that you had lost me, but never like this. And all for my stupid pride..." He shook his head again. "But you have to talk to me, Nan. Promise me that you'll talk to me, that you won't just hold it all in and leave me fearing the worst. It drives me crazy, to be cut out of your life."

"As long as you promise me the same thing," she told him. "It's not just the two of us anymore, Ned. We can't afford to get lost in our own heads and ignore each other. If we're going to do this, we need to be committed to it, and I won't have it any other way. All this time... you've shown me that although I love you, I don't _need_ you. I can do this without you or your help. But I can't just shut you out of our child's life.

"You told me I was no good for you, and that—that _hurt._ It hurt a lot. I hate that you feel that way. And what I did... well, I was scared, and I'm sorry."

He laced his fingers through hers. "And I was scared and so upset at the thought of losing you that I decided to just pull the trigger... and I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Her lips trembled when she looked into his eyes again. "It's been so hard," she whispered.

"It won't be, anymore," he told her, and a tear streaked down her cheek. "I promise you. I'll never leave you again."

\--

Ned couldn't help it. He had been nervous all day, during the small celebration and gift exchange he and his parents had had in the hotel room, during lunch at a deli in the city. Nancy and her aunt and her father had invited Ned and his parents to Eloise's apartment for Christmas dinner.

Ned was flying back to China the next day, to gather his personal belongings and have a formal conversation with his boss. He hated all the time he would be spending on the trip there and back, but it had to be done, the sooner the better.

And Ned dressed carefully, in the formal outfit he had selected for the gala, with a new clean shirt. His mother had gone shopping and found a festive forest-green sweater set that she paired with a black wool skirt and a string of pearls, and Ned's father wore his favorite suit. The three of them were ready a full twenty minutes before they needed to leave.

Ned's mother sat down on the couch in the central room of the suite and smiled at Ned. "Honey, I know this may not be the way you wanted it, and maybe you don't want to hear this, but I'm so glad you two have decided to start a life together. That we'll be able to see our grandchild. I'm so looking forward to seeing Nancy again."

Ned's father nodded. "I'm glad things worked out this way," he said. "I'm very proud of all you've accomplished, and I'll be proud of you when you're back here, too. We've missed you."

"So much, sweetheart. It feels like a Christmas miracle. I just hate that we couldn't make anything to bring." It rankled her that they had had to settle on a selection of cookies from a bakery she had found the day before, instead of something homemade and lovingly prepared.

Ned hadn't bought a gift for Nancy before he had left China; he had had no intention of seeing her or thinking about her, not if he could help it. The day before, he had gone out and found her something he hoped she would like. It wasn't nearly what she deserved, but at least it was a small start. He and his parents had picked out gifts for Nancy's father and aunt, too.

Carson opened the door of his sister's apartment when Ned knocked, and Ned's stomach flipped over unpleasantly. Nancy's father had to know that Ned was responsible for impregnating his beloved only daughter, and Ned had been dreading this meeting for days.

"Ned, James, Edith. Merry Christmas, and please come in. The ladies are in the kitchen, just finishing up."

"Then I'll take this right to them," Ned's mother said brightly. "Thank you so much for inviting us. Merry Christmas, Carson."

"Merry Christmas, Carson." Ned's father shook hands with Nancy's.

Then Ned and Carson were left looking at each other, and Ned swallowed, finding his voice. It was important for him to do this now, though it was six months too late. "Mr. Drew, I... I apologize for my behavior, and I want you to know that I'm in the process of finding a job in Chicago so I can be there for Nancy, the way I should have been from the start. Thank you for letting me celebrate today with you and your family."

Carson nodded. "I accept your apology," he said. "But I've always wanted what was best for my daughter, and the past few months have given me grave doubts about you. It was her choice, to give you an opportunity to prove me wrong. Please do."

Ned nodded. "Thank you, sir," he said. "Thank you. I will."

The table had been extended to accommodate all six of them, and Eloise had chosen an interesting menu: stuffed dates for a starter, then macaroni and cheese with sausage and tomato, mashed potatoes with cauliflower and plenty of butter and garlic, glazed carrots and Parmesan spinach, Cornish game hens, yeast rolls, cranberry citrus salad, and a tall chocolate cake for dessert. Ned's mother helped Eloise and Nancy bring all the dishes to the table, and more than a few times Ned saw Nancy and his mother exchanging smiles. Ned had a feeling that his mother's anger had stemmed from her sympathizing with Nancy's situation, and the fondness she had always felt for her. For the longest time, Ned had just known that he and Nancy would be together. In a way he had been right. He had just had a picture in his head of what that meant, and when reality had been different, he had reacted badly.

Nancy was just taking off her apron to join everyone at the table when Ned found her in the kitchen. It took a second before she smiled at him, and he could still see the defensiveness and hurt in her eyes, but it had been less than a week. They needed time to find their way back—or, better, to find a better way.

"Merry Christmas, Nancy."

"Merry Christmas," she said quietly, and then she placed a hand on her belly.

"Is she kicking again?"

Nancy nodded, and gasped quietly, still smiling. "Every time I see you," she murmured.

He came over to her, wrapping an arm around her, letting her guide his other hand to feel their baby kick. He rested his forehead gently against the crown of her head. "Nan," he whispered. "Oh, sweetheart. I love you so much, I love you both so much. I wish I could take you with me tomorrow, but I don't want to put you in danger. I'm going to hate every second we're apart."

"And you'll be back for New Year's?"

"I will. I promise."

The meal was more relaxed than Ned had expected, mostly because his parents were treating what had happened like it was an extended trip and now they were catching up with friends. His mother almost insisted that Nancy come to see her as soon as all of them were back in Illinois, and Ned's father suggested that he and Carson have lunch sometime soon. It was all Ned had wanted when he and Nancy had first started dating, and he was incredibly grateful that his parents were working so hard to reestablish a connection with her family.

Then again, their families would be joined; they already were, thanks to the daughter Nancy was carrying. Ned knew his parents would have been devastated to know that they had a grandchild they couldn't spend time with and spoil with toys and treats.

Once the main course was over and it was time to clear the plates and serve dessert, Eloise and Ned's mother insisted that Nancy stay seated while they took care of it. Ned was seated beside her, and he reached for her hand. She had tried a bite of everything, but she had explained to him that she wasn't able to eat much; she just didn't have the room, and she would likely eat another plate later.

He leaned over to give her a kiss on the cheek. "I'm so happy to be here with you," he told her. "Thanks so much for letting me share this with you."

She smiled. "I'm glad you're here," she whispered. "Thank you for being here."

Eloise's cake and the cookies his mother had brought were delicious, and after dinner, Nancy and Ned settled on the couch while Nancy's father and Ned's father volunteered to help clean up.

"Eloise, James and I brought... oh..." Ned's mother looked up from her purse. "Ned, sweetheart, I think I left the gift you bought for Nancy back in the hotel room. Maybe she could come back with us? That way we could all spend a little time together before we leave tomorrow."

Her eyes were twinkling, and Ned tried not to laugh. His mother always had done her best to find opportunities to see Nancy, or to let him hang out with her. "Nancy needs her rest, Mom."

"And we have plenty of room. She could sleep over." Ned's mom shrugged a little, as though to say that the worst had already happened.

Nancy opened her mouth, then closed it. "Maybe," she said, and Ned gave her hand a little squeeze.

"Well, I'd hate to lose any time with my niece, but if that's what she wants..." Eloise smiled. "I'll just have to plan another trip to see you again soon."

Ned's father and Nancy's father poured each of them mugs of warm apple cider, and raised their glasses. "Merry Christmas," Ned's father said.

"Merry Christmas," Carson said. "It's good to see all of you again. Thank you for sharing this with us. And next Christmas, when we're hopefully celebrating the birth of our first grandchild... well, it's a blessing that I will be happy to celebrate with all of you."

Nancy was blushing when Ned glanced over at her. He hadn't been around to help her break the news to her father, or to take any of the responsibility. She really had taken on so much, when he had walked out of her life—and she hadn't had to. She could have made a different choice, back then.

Ned wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "It is a blessing," he murmured to her. "My parents are so excited that we'll be able to share this with you. They want to be there to help us too. It'll be better, honey."

Her eyes were shining when she looked into his. "I love you," she whispered.

Eloise and Carson thanked Ned's parents for their gifts, and presented some of their own, smaller items that would be easier to pack and take home. Nancy's doctor had advised her against flying, so she and her father were taking the train back to Chicago, and Ned's parents had decided to do the same and travel with them. Ned hated that the unexpected plans had meant they couldn't spend time with the rest of their family, but next year, they could bring their daughter. And at least Nancy would be traveling with three people who loved her and would keep her safe, until he could see her again.

At the end of the night, Nancy had packed a small case, and she planned to come back to her aunt's apartment in the morning to finish packing for their departure. "Be safe, honey," her father told her as he gave her a hug. "Call me if you need anything, and I'll see you in the morning."

"Love you, Dad."

"Love you too, sweetheart."

"We'll bring her with us, and she'll be fine," Ned's mother said with a smile. "Thanks for letting us spend some more time with her. Thank you so much for that incredible feast, Eloise."

Ned had made a plate of leftovers for Nancy, too, and another one when Eloise had insisted. "There's no way I'll be able to finish off all this," she had told him. "And... I'm glad you two are working on things. I'm glad your baby will have a father."

"Me too," Ned said. He was doubly glad that the baby's father would be him. He had no illusions that she could have found another man to fill that role, if she had wanted.

Back at their hotel suite, Ned's mother insisted that Nancy sit down and relax as soon as she walked in, and sat down next to her. "So you're having a little girl," she said. "Oh, honey. I always wanted to have a little girl. I can't wait to meet her."

"Me either," Nancy said. "Mrs. Nickerson... I know I should have talked to you..."

Ned's mother patted her knee gently. "It's okay. I understand. But we're here now, and we want to help you in any way that we can. And babysit just as often as you'll let us."

Nancy smiled. "Thank you. Thank you both."

"Have you thought about names yet, sweetheart?"

Ned smiled. His father was eating one of the cookies they had brought back with them, and Ned took one too.

"She really did always want a little girl," Ned's father told him. "Along with you, not instead of you. Edith missed having Nancy around."

"I could tell," Ned said. "I missed her, too." He took another bite of his cookie and considered for a moment. "I had to fill my life with so much to take up the hole that losing her left in it, and I could have found a way to be happy, but it would have been different. And I would always have known that."

"Not to mention, when you found out about the baby."

"Even without the baby. I don't want that to be the reason that she agreed to try again, and she didn't want that to be true about me. But I love her, and walking out on her was one of the stupidest things I've ever done."

"You'll get no argument from me, son," his father said, and gave him a little smile. "Here, take a few of these to your mom and my future daughter-in-law."

Later that night, when Nancy was visibly exhausted, Ned's parents said they were going to bed and that the two of them should get some rest too. Ned opened the door to the bedroom he had been using; he had excused himself and tidied up while she and his mother were talking, and if she wanted to sleep in the bed beside his instead of with him, he would understand.

A year ago, as soon as the door had closed behind them they would have been clinging to each other, and he would have been backing her toward the nearest bed, savoring the feel of her skin against his. They had always been so careful to use condoms; he hadn't asked her if she wanted to go on the pill, because he hadn't considered it her sole responsibility to handle birth control. He wondered, idly, what it had been, which night, but it didn't matter now. It had happened, and they had created another human being together.

She slowly took her shoes off. "Um... I'll be right back," she told him, and gave him a small smile as she took her bag to the bathroom.

Ned slowly stripped down and moved under the covers. They had been alone together in the past few days, but not like this, and he felt an almost physical longing to hold her in his arms again. She had said they could try again, but he didn't know what that meant; he didn't know if it meant living together or apart, or making their relationship more permanent, either before or after the baby's arrival. She had wanted that six months ago, but a lot of water had gone under the bridge since then.

She came back in wearing a long-sleeved plaid nightgown, cut generously for her large belly, closed the door, and took a few steps toward the bed. Her gaze went to his broad, bare chest, then back to his face. "Two beds," she said softly.

"And you're welcome to either one."

She caught the cuff of her gown's sleeve in her fingers, pulling it down over the heel of her hand. "I'm used to a whole bed to myself," she told him. "Sometimes it's hard to get comfortable. Hannah found a special pillow for me, but it was too big and bulky to bring on the train. I don't think I've had a good night's sleep since we got here."

"Oh."

She took another step toward the bed. "But I've missed you," she whispered, and her eyes gleamed a little. "Are we going to be sharing a bed, trying to make this work? Finding a place together..."

His heart rose at the thought of it, but he pushed the covers aside and came over to her. "I'd love to find a place for us, all three of us," he told her quietly. "But I don't want to rush into this so fast that you don't have time to think. We can stay with my parents, or with your father. I can find a place for us and set it up, and do everything we need. If we can make that work, then when you come home from the hospital, I can bring you and our baby to our new place."

She blinked slowly, and a tear streaked down her cheek. "You'd do that," she whispered.

He nodded. "Of course."

"You were gone," she whispered, her voice shaking. "It was like I blinked and you were out of my life and now... Ned, my father and Hannah... they were all I had, and Bess and George offered to help, but I knew they couldn't do much..."

"And this is mine," he told her. "My responsibility, and my duty, to take care of you and our baby and do all I can for you, whatever way I can. Please."

She let him guide her to his bed, and he helped her sit down, then move under the covers. He found himself thinking it, and he made himself say it.

"I wish I had been here for all of it," he told her. "I wish I'd been here to see all the steps between. Did you take pictures?"

"Some." She rested her head against his shoulder, and the weight of her pregnant belly rested against his. He gently stroked it under the covers, and on the third stroke he felt the brush of an elbow or heel in return. "Do you want to talk to her?"

"Do you?"

"Yeah. She hears my voice all the time. She hears me now. And she doesn't know you, yet. She just knows that my heart beats harder when I see you, and she responds to that."

"Your heart beats harder, huh. Mine does too." Ned smiled as he slid down, and Nancy reached down to draw her nightgown up, so that his fingertips were stroking against her bare skin. "Hey, beautiful girl. I'm your daddy. I went away for a while, and I'm sorry, but I'm here now, and I love you. I love you and your mommy so much. I can't wait to meet you, sweetheart."

Nancy sniffled, and when Ned looked up at her, he saw that she was crying steadily. She ran her fingers through his hair when he gently kissed her belly, just over her belly button.

"My love," he whispered. "My only love, forever. I love you so much, Nan."

"I love you too," she whispered.

He kissed her then, slow and deep and sweet, his fingertips stroking over her hair. He kissed her again and again, and when his hand slid down to her hip, then to her panties, he couldn't believe that he was trying it—but it had very likely been just as long for her as it had for him, and she reached down to help him slide them off.

He took things slow, and when he realized that if she wanted to go that far, they wouldn't need to use a condom, he was insanely aroused by the thought. They moved together, making out, and he chuckled when she touched his underwear too. She was so warm, so sensitive, and he gently cupped one of her breasts when she moved over him.

"Hmm. I like this too," he murmured. Her breasts were definitely larger now, and she moaned when he brushed his thumb against her nipple. "Do you want to be on top, Nan? Do you want this?"

She nodded. "Please," she whispered. "It's been so long..."

"Yeah, it has. Here..."

He pushed the thought that it wasn't just the two of them in bed out of his head; it was strange to imagine that, however dampened, their daughter might be responding to Nancy's feelings right now. He cupped the join of her thighs and found her slick; when he traced his thumb over her clit, she almost sobbed in pleasure.

"Shh. We have to be quiet, baby."

"I—know." She straddled his hips, moving over him. "Promise me you'll come back. Please come back to me."

"I will. I swear I will. I'll always come back to you."

She moaned, her hips rocking as he kept stroking her clit. "Now," she begged him. "Please, now..."

"I love you."

"I love you too," she gasped.

She sank onto him, mounting him, and for the first time he truly _felt_ her. She supported her weight on her palms, clearly trying to keep from pressing down on him too hard, but then she bowed her head without moving against him. Her skin was flushed and glowing, and he loved her so much.

"Let me," he whispered, reaching up to stroke her cheek.

"Yes," she whispered, and she smiled.

\--

Nancy felt the opposite of sexy. She was heavily pregnant, often flushed, and all of her seemed to have broadened or swelled, or both. She had missed Ned so much, and she had wanted no one else. Even at her lowest point, she had wanted no one else.

He was the father of her child. All she had wanted was to see him come through that door, a bouquet of roses in his arms and an apology on his lips, a plausible excuse for ignoring her for so long.

But it didn't matter, now. He was here, with her, promising to be there for both of them. And she wanted him. She wanted him so, so much, even though she had never felt less alluring in her life.

She found it hard to ride him—she thought, fleetingly, that if she could just find some way to support her weight that it wouldn't be so hard—and so they switched positions, and he maneuvered her to the side of the bed. She flushed, uncomfortable, when he gazed down at her naked body. She had been so much more attractive the last time they had made love, she was sure. She had even been hoping that they might make love the night she had planned on telling him about her pregnancy.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured. "I love you."

She sniffled. "I love you," she whispered.

It felt different, this way, and his first thrust in her was slow, to let her adjust to it—but then, this was new for him too. She looked up at him, and her sigh stuttered when he reached down and thumbed her clit again.

He wanted to raise a child with her.

She had resigned herself to never hearing from him again. She had resigned herself to all of it, and the enormity of it was almost too much for her to process. A small, still-hurt part of her was convinced that he would forget all about her and their daughter when he returned to China, that nothing was enough to make him stay with her. That he had just been pretending the news was new to him, and when he was caught looking so awful, he'd had no choice but to try to make amends.

That small, still-hurt part of her had to be wrong, but she would have sworn that she _knew_ Ned Nickerson, down to his bones, almost down to his soul, before this had happened. He had been _hers_. And then he had been gone, and nothing she could say or do had brought him back.

She still had her piece of him, and she always would. A part of him would always be hers, in the baby they had created together.

And his dark eyes gazed into hers, and the past six months felt like it had just been a terrible dream, a nightmare vision of what her life would be without his presence. She had no choice but to believe that he would return to her. Every time she had asked in the past few days, he had said he would, with no hesitation. He would. The alternative, now that she fully understood it, had become unthinkable.

He kept gazing at her, and she realized that he was adjusting what he was doing based on her expression. If he saw that she was enjoying his rubbing her clit, he kept doing that; when he went so deep that she was uncomfortable, he immediately pulled back, a whispered apology on his lips.

Her lover. God, how her heart had ached for him. She hadn't wanted to go on without him. She hadn't wanted to live. But he had come back to her, and she didn't have to go through another day of misery alone.

She had given up hope and hardened herself to keep from feeling this pain, but he was here with her.

Making love to him felt different— _all_ of her felt different—but it was intoxicating to see desire and love in his eyes, to see the joy in his face too. For the first few weeks of their separation, it had been all she could think about, and the thought had been torture. She had done her best to block it out and tell herself that she would never feel that with him again. When she first began to feel her orgasm, she could hardly believe it; she arched, gasping, tipping her head back. "Yes," she panted. " _Yesss_..."

The only thing that kept her from crying out at the pleasure of it was the thought of Ned's parents in the next room, and that they would undoubtedly know what was happening. She forced herself to look up into his face, savoring it; she didn't know how much longer it would be comfortable, or possible, for them to have sex.

She had imagined that he hated her now, that he had found someone else, that she meant less than nothing to him. To be with him again, now...

"I love you," he murmured, stroking her hip. "I love you so much."

"I love you," she gasped out, panting harshly. It was incredible with him, but once they had learned each other, it always had been.

And Ned was the one who gasped loudly at the point of orgasm, when she had dampened her reaction to a silent scream. She relaxed when he did, as he supported his weight over her and hung his head, and she lay there with her legs parted, just breathing.

Then she started giggling, and Ned brought his head up; he was flushed and glowing, but his dark eyes were questioning. "Hmm? Please tell me that's not a comment on..."

He shrugged a little, and she shook her head, still giggling. "No, not at all," she assured him. "That was great. It's just, I can't even count the number of times I've been like this at the doctor's office over the past few months... it's just that this time was infinitely more fun."

Ned chuckled too. "Will you be going again soon? For an ultrasound?"

"Maybe. I've... they made videos for me."

"Videos." His expression softened, and he gently parted from her, reaching for the tissue box beside the bed. "Wow."

She nodded, and when he asked with a wordless shrug whether she wanted him to help her dress, she nodded again. It was nice, sometimes, to be pampered like this. She had hated to be coddled before, to be treated like she needed protecting. With him, she had missed out on months of it. She felt like she deserved a little.

He cuddled up with her again, and she closed her eyes. She really was exhausted. It felt like she had been exhausted for months now. She would rest once they were back in Illinois together. She would rest once the baby was acknowledged as his, once she was able to walk through a grocery store or the mall without judgemental glances when other shoppers saw her alone, no partner and no rings on her fingers to mark her baby as legitimate. She had ignored all that, but she had been aware of it, and it had hurt. She had dreaded the day that her child might be looked down on, too.

She was at the point of just dropping off to sleep when she felt Ned brush a kiss against her forehead. "When I come back," he whispered, as though to himself, and gently stroked her back. "When I come back, sweetheart."

She was too tired to ask him what he meant; she only knew that her heart rose at the words.

\--

Nancy and Ned were married on January twelfth, at the courthouse in Chicago, with her father and Ned's parents in attendance. Ned's parents and her own father had offered to make it a more formal affair, even with such a brief window, but Nancy had shaken her head. They could have a wedding, a beautiful traditional wedding, in the summer, once she had recovered some from giving birth to their child, when her wedding dress wouldn't have to be nearly double in size to fit comfortably. And though neither of them claimed to care about the "legitimacy" of their child's birth—Ned had never denied that he was the baby's father, once he knew about her—they also didn't see the point in waiting to be married.

He knew there would be questions, later, because he had no doubt that their daughter would be as smart as her mother. She would do the math and realize she had been conceived before her parents were married. Neither of them ever said it, and they didn't need to, but for _them_ , he wanted to be married first. He wanted to be her husband when they went to the hospital for the baby's delivery. He wanted there to be no question at all, about her.

The ceremony was short, and to the point. Nothing extraordinary happened, except that when Nancy walked out of the courthouse with her arm through Ned's, it was as his lawfully wedded wife. They had joked a few times that if her father was arguing a case on their wedding day, he could just come by to bear witness during the lunchtime break, but he had promised them both that he would be there. She was glad to see him. Ned could see it in her face, the way she smiled at her father when he kissed her cheek and told her he was proud of her.

She carried a bouquet of white flowers, and she wore a white lace gown with a pink sash. She glowed with happiness, and Ned adored her. He had found a job, a good one that would allow him to advance and provide for his new family. And he loved her with all his heart.

A month earlier, he hadn't even been a part of her life; he hadn't even known he was going to be a father.

They had been married a month when Nancy went into labor. Gemma Catherine Nickerson was born the following day, the day before Valentine's Day, and when Ned first saw her, he couldn't believe it. She had Nancy's sapphire-blue eyes, and she was so impossibly tiny. He adored her from the first moment he set eyes on her. He was completely wrapped around her miniature little finger.

When he gazed down into her small, almost preternaturally wise face, he realized again how close he had come to never knowing her. Nancy had been forced to go through most of her pregnancy alone, and he was so grateful that he had been able to share this with her.

"Gemma," he whispered, and gently stroked the backs of his fingers against her soft cheek. Her head was covered by a pink stocking cap, and she was wrapped snugly in a warm white blanket. He didn't want to let her go. "Hey sweetheart. I'm your dad, and I'm going to keep you safe."

He was panicked and overwhelmed, and so full of joy and love that he ached with it. When Gemma began to scrunch her tiny face and release little mewling cries, Nancy pushed herself up a little. "Here," she murmured, reaching for their daughter. She was exhausted, but he didn't think she had been able to sleep yet.

"My little angel," she whispered, when Gemma was in her arms. "I love you, baby girl. I've always loved you, and I always will."

Their parents came in, eager to meet their first grandchild, and Bess and George came in to meet Nancy's baby. Ned stayed with her all day, taking a break once to go down to the cafeteria, and when visiting hours were over he was still by her side.

The nurse came by to take Gemma for a few tests, and Nancy drifted to sleep for a few minutes. When she woke again, Ned had refilled her water pitcher and her tumbler, and she gave him a small tired smile. "Thanks," she whispered.

"I love you," he told her. "I still can't quite believe she's real."

"Me either," Nancy whispered. "That she's here. That we can hold her." She shook her head, adjusting the covers over her, and Ned came to her to help. "I thought she was the only part of you that was still mine, for so long..."

Ned had felt tears prick in his eyes when he had first set eyes on his daughter. He felt them again now. "You always had me," he whispered. "Always, Nan. And she's perfect."

Nancy nodded, gazing up at him with the same sleepy blue eyes she had passed down to their daughter. "She is," she whispered. "And you are."

He nodded, leaning down to kiss her forehead, stroking her hair. "Sleep," he whispered. "We'll take her home soon."

"She's so tiny," Nancy whispered, closing her eyes. "She's perfect... Thank you. I love you too. I always have."

He gave her a gentle kiss on the lips. "I love you too," he whispered. "Happy Valentine's Day, beautiful."


End file.
